Her William
by Tiger Sunrise
Summary: (post "Selfless") Buffy rescues Spike from the basement and takes care of him. (Spoilers for pretty much everything this season so far.) SPUFFY FLUFFYNESS!! Authors Tequila Sunrise and Tigerwolf!! PLEASE REVIEW!!!


Disclaimer: Not ours. At all.  
  
Summary: Another 'Buffy gets Spike out of the basement' story. We were feeling fluff again. *grin*  
  
Author's Notes: Just a Spuffy fluff piece that Sunrise posed to me tonight. We played with it for awhile.   
  
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Her William  
by: Tequila Sunrise & Tigerwolf  
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Buffy fidgeted uncomfortably. NO ONE was in her office today. And it was her lunch break. And she was bored. So very, terribly bored. And worried. The last time she had been down to see Spike, he had a very large knife, with an... eerily intricate handle. She was pretty sure the knife coordinated with the gashes on his chest. She had, immediately, taken it away. Right now it was locked away in her slaying case. It was creepy, but beautiful. She couldn't bring herself to break it. So. Now she found herself outside that stupid door that Spike was behind. With her lunch in hand. She opened the door, slowly. "Hey, Spike..." She called. Kind of softly, so as to not startle him.  
  
No real answer, but the sounds of something being dragged across the floor. A pile of old desks moved, and a pale hand came up to the top to steady it. "Don't fall now. I'm not done yet. For the grade. This counts," the vampire muttered from the other side of the desk pile.  
  
She was puzzled and crossed to the pile. "Spike?"  
  
He was jerking on another desk that was stuck between a large, thimble looking thing and the wall. "I don't have all of them. Have to collect them all." It wasn't clear if he even was aware of her presence. Maybe he was even ignoring her.  
  
"Spike." Not quite sharp.. but firm.  
  
He glanced up, noticing her. Said quietly. "I try all day. Clean it up. Make it presentable. Nothing changes. Change the outside, but the inside is still broken. Bleeding. Burning." Tugged on the stuck desk again. "And I'm not done yet."  
  
Buffy nodded. "Oh... so... you're gonna stack them all up?"  
  
He nodded. "Gives more room." The stack wavered, and he steadied it again. "But less noise."  
  
There were stacks all over the basement. Desks. Chairs. Old computers. Trash bins. "How long have you been working?"  
  
"Time doesn't have meaning here, you know." Pointed at a broken clock on the wall. "It's always a quarter passed eight."  
  
She had no reply to that. "Is it ok if I stay here for a little bit?"  
  
He nodded, and finally freed the desk from it's pinned position. "You stay. Go. Come back. They all do. Not right now, but later. They'll be back when you go." Carefully stacked the last desk on top, then began straightening a pile of old newspapers in a corner. "Keep busy. Busy bee. Keep working, and they don't see me." It was almost like a little song. Maybe it was.  
  
She looked down at her rather small sack lunch, and back at the jittery vampire. "You wanna eat with me?"  
  
He paused, looked back at her. "It's wrong. What I eat is wrong. Isn't normal. Isn't good. Shouldn't do it. So I stopped." Picked up a paper, sniffed at it, made a face, and put it back. "Fishy."  
  
"Spike, come eat with me."  
  
He moved toward her, looking caught up in an internal battle. Half of him wanted to go over to her, and the other half wanted to run. Paused a few feet back and cocked his head, body held in a defensive/submissive posture. "What's in there?" Pointed at the bag.  
  
"Just lunch. Sandwich, salad, yogurt."  
  
"Yuck. Yogurt." Sniffed. "Kind of sandwich? What kind?"  
  
She opened the bag, peeked inside. Dawn had taken to packing her lunch, since Buffy insisted on packing Dawn's. "Turkey. Cheese. Mustard. Ooh. Cookies."  
  
Took a step closer, and she could *hear* his stomach growling. "Cookies?"  
  
She held the bag aloft, but too close to her body for him to snatch away. "Five. Cookies."  
  
He licked his lips, moved closer and sat down. Almost out of arms reach. "I can be good. I've been good. Do I get a cookie?"  
  
She sat, too. "After you have a sandwich."  
  
He just looked at her. Waiting. Held out a hand tenatively.  
  
She laid the sandwich in his hand carefully, unwrapped of it's tuck-and-fold plastic baggy. Made sure their hands touched, just a little bit.  
  
He jerked back from the touch, clutching the sandwich. Started to skitter back into the shadows behind the desk pile.  
  
"Spike." Her voice halted him.  
  
Paused, halfway behind the desk. Looked at her. "Sorry. I'm sorry. Shouldn't- Can't- Never touch again. Bad man. William's a bad man." And he looked as if he was about to throw the sandwich away.  
  
He apparently found some comfort in the shadows. Buffy scooted across the floor, dragging her lunch with her. She sat directly across from him. "Is it ok if I sit here?"  
  
He licked his lips and looked at her. "Sit where you want. No one tells you what to do." Suddenly seemed to notice the sandwich again. Sniffed at it, as a quiet rumble came from his stomach. He looked down and cocked his head. "Noisy thing. Shut up."  
  
Her fingers touched his hand, bringing it to his mouth. "If you ate the sandwich, it might hush a little bit."  
  
He shivered at her touch, but hunger won out over guilt and he bit into the sandwich like someone who hadn't eaten in a week, or longer... Maybe he hadn't.  
  
Buffy hid a frown around a mouthful of yogurt. The food would appease his stomach for a little while, but it needed blood. He looked... peaked. Sick. His usually alluringly high cheekbones now just looked sunken. But how to get him to drink? He apparently deemed it 'bad', and refused to do it. "How's your sandwich?"  
  
"Mmfgnt." Mouth full. Swallowed. "Good. Did they tell the turkey? Before, I mean." A sick sounding laugh. "Cause after wouldn't have had much of a point."  
  
Took another bite of yogurt and said smoothly. "Of course they did. The turkeys agreed."   
  
He nodded, and finished the rest of the sandwich in two bites. "Good. They must give permission. Everyone must give permission and have the slips signed. Turkeys and all."  
  
"Yup." Slid the salad at him.  
  
He made a face. "Greens."  
  
"They taste good."  
  
"Rabbits eat greens. I'm not a rabbit." Cocked his head. "I dreamed I was a bird, though. Flew away, and left them down here. Left them alone, and they had to find someone else to hurt."  
  
She pondered his words. Knew at once that he couldn't stay here anymore. Even if he WASN'T unbalanced, living directly on top of the Hellmouth wasn't healthy. "Maybe one day you will fly away." Nudged the salad forward again.  
  
He picked it up, clumslily removed the lid, and began eating the shredded carrots. "I can't fly. I don't have wings." Considered the salad. "Ooh. Egg."  
  
"When's the last time you fed?"  
  
Swallowed an almost whole hard boiled egg. "I'm eating now."  
  
His words had been shaky, and he made absolutely no eye contact now. She could have kicked herself. But still. "Spike."  
  
Stuck a piece of lettuce in his mouth. "Mmess?"  
  
"When?"  
  
Very quiet. "Don't remember. It's bad. Bad bad bad." Quickly stuffed the last egg in his mouth.  
  
"All right. It's all right." Soothingly. "When you finish the salad... We can have cookies."  
  
He looked up, swallowing the egg. Then quickly focused on finishing the salad. Made a face at the cauliflower, but ate it anyway.  
  
She broke one cookie in half, took it for herself, and handed the rest of the bag to him. Slid her bottled water over with it. "It's not milk, but..."  
  
He cocked his head. "Dasani. What's that mean?"  
  
She shrugged. "It's just a brand, I guess. Like Gap, or, Chanel. It's just water."  
  
"Oh." Ate a whole cookie in one bite, half choked, and drank about a fourth of the water quickly.  
  
She took the bag back, and broke the cookies into smaller pieces. "Don't eat so fast. You'll get sick."  
  
He looked sad, and more than a little embarrassed. "Sorry..."  
  
She smiled, projecting 'friendly, not angry'. "It's ok. I just don't want you to choke."  
  
He gave that sick laugh again. "I don't breathe. Can't choke." Started eating cookie pieces slowly, though.  
  
She shrugged. "I can worry, though."  
  
Looked at her. "You worry about me.." Cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. "You're not real, are you?"  
  
She was taken aback at the hostility in his eyes. "Yes, I am."  
  
He shook his head. "No you're not. Every time you come, and you're nice, and listen, it's not really you. And you come in, and it tears apart from the inside out."  
  
Oh no. Poor Spike and his halucinations. "Spike... I'm real. Look." Took his hand, held it against his protest, laid it high on her chest. "What is that?"  
  
Stopped moving cocked his head. "Heartbeat. But the fake one has touched me before. Feels real. Till it falls apart."  
  
"It's not gonna fall apart." She hoped not, anyway. "Would a fake me bring you cookies?"   
  
He considered. "It hasn't before. But it never touched me before the other day, either." He pulled his hand back and stared down into the cookie bag. "It said it wanted to help me. That it was you, and me, and we could get through it. Together." His voice cracked on the last word.  
  
She heard a bell ring upstairs. Rats. Her prep was over. "The real Buffy wants to help you. I do. And I'm gonna be right back here after it gets dark, ok? We're... we're gonna go out. Is that ok?"  
  
He looked scared. "Out..? Out is where bad things happen. Worse than inside. I hurt people out there. Hurt you."  
  
"No. You won't hurt me." Looked him right in the eye. "I know you won't."  
  
So hopeful. "No one else, either?"  
  
"No one. Not even you." Absolute conviction.  
  
He seemed to accept that, nodding and settling back with the cookies. "I'll wait. I'll stay. I'll be good. Want to be good."  
  
"I know you do. I know you are." She stood. "I'll be back in just a little while."  
  
He nodded, and watched her go.  
  
===========================================================================================  
  
Buffy was back in the school a scant half an hour after sunset. She held two styrofoam cups in her hands. She was pretty sure she had devised a plan to get him to feed. "Spike?"  
  
"Back here. Shadows. Always in the dark..."  
  
She beckoned to him. "Come out with me."  
  
He came slowly out from behind the desk pile, that had apparently tipped over since she'd left. He had that blue shirt on again, and had managed to at least marginally fix his hair. "We're going out, now?"  
  
"Yes, we are." She led the way outside, commenting on how nice he looked.  
  
He gave a half smile. "I wear colors. Humans wear colors. No one will guess that it's a monster's costume."  
  
"Mmm..." She kept walking, doing little things here and there, drawing his attention to the cups. She was waiting until she had baited him to the point of curiousity.  
  
Didn't take long. He cocked his head as he followed her. "What're those?"  
  
"These? They're special."  
  
Interested. "Why?"  
  
She shrugged. "They just are. This one is for me." Lifted one hand. "This one is for you... I think."  
  
He tried to sniff at them. "What's the difference?"  
  
"Simple. One is for me. And one is for you."  
  
Sniffed again, reached out. "For me? Like.. a present?"  
  
Pulled it back. "Only if you'll take it."  
  
Cocked his head. "If it's for me, why wouldn't I take it?" Backed up. "If you're not real, and this is a trick, stop now. I don't want to hurt anymore."  
  
"I'm real. You'll really take it?"  
  
He was getting confused. "Yes. If it's for me."  
  
"It is. And I'll have mine at the same time. Ok?"  
  
Nodded, still looking confused.  
  
She handed him the cup, took the lid off.  
  
He froze, staring at the contents.  
  
She uncapped hers hurriedly, showing him the half-melted deep red slushy. "See? I have one, too."  
  
He looked at hers, then at his, then back at hers again. "You.." He suddenly looked slightly scared. "You didn't.. you're not.. Uh.." Listened for her heartbeat, relaxed marginally when he heard and identified it. "It's not bad?"  
  
Shook her head. HIS was blood. Hers was definitely slushy. But maybe he would eat it.  
  
He sniffed at them. "Don't smell the same."  
  
She shrugged. "Yours is more special. Let's have some."  
  
He licked his lips, and a deeper, louder, more insistant growl came from his stomach. Hungry. Starving. Eyes flashed, but he fought it down. Did put the cup to his mouth, slowly.  
  
She sipped at her slushy, watching him apprehensively.  
  
The moment the taste hit him, he started gulping, his eyes closing as the focus turned inward. Starvation winning over insanity.  
  
She let out the little breath she had been holding. Good. They had more blood at the house.  
  
Even after the cup was drained, Spike kept flicking his tongue into the cup, trying to get any stray drops that might have escaped.  
  
She smiled at him. "Want some more?"  
  
His eyes opened, and focused on her. "There's more? Where?" He was looking around, sniffing as if he could locate it on his own.  
  
"Come with me."  
  
Nodded, and followed her, still occasionally licking at the cup.  
  
She led him straight up her road, glad of his engrossment with the cup.  
  
Only problem was, he was going to get his face stuck in there if he didn't stop doing that soon. And sure enough, he got stuck.  
  
She stopped at the porch steps, pulling the cup off his face.  
  
He took a moment to focus, then looked around, nervously. "What..? Why are we here? I'll.. I can't go in.. There's.. Bad things happen. Bad-"  
  
"Come in with me." Slowly coaxed him up the first step.  
  
He wanted to follow her, didn't want to be left alone out there. Moved up onto the porch after her, suddenly pausing. "Is.. she going to be scary? And the witch? She here, too?"  
  
She nodded. "They're here. Dawn isn't scary. She's very nice."  
  
He nodded, but was chewing on his lip. "I have to go in?"  
  
"I'll come in with you."  
  
He gave her a strange look. "You have to. It's your house."  
  
She nodded. "Right. It's my house. Come on. Let's go."  
  
He let her lead him inside, wincing at the lights, and looking around as if something was going to jump out at him.  
  
She walked back into the kitchen, sat him at a stool. "I'll get you more stuff, ok?"  
  
He nodded, still looking around nervously. Kind of afraid to talk, cause someone might hear him, and come yell at him. Or worse.  
  
Dawn wandered in the kitchen, talking on the phone. "No, and he's so cute, and he just... looked at me an-" Stopped short as she took in the scene.  
  
Spike froze on the stool, eyes wide. Swallowed, and moved around to the *other* side of the kitchen island.  
  
"I will call you back." She hung up the phone, on a still chattering voice. "Buffy!"  
  
Buffy glanced at Dawn. "Dawn. Spike is gonna have dinner here."  
  
"He's wh-"  
  
"Dawn. Spike is really glad to see you again."  
  
A very tentative wave from the vampire, and he moved a little closer to Buffy.  
  
Dawn's contorted face relaxed as Buffy sent signals to her. Something wasn't right, and she'd wait to find out what it was. "Hi."  
  
"Hello, Bi- Dawn." Very quiet, and he held his body in a submissive posture, his instincts helping him. Showing the ingrained ways to avoid a confrontation.  
  
Dawn. Not Bit. Like he didn't deserve to call her that or something. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm insane. And you?"  
  
"High school. Officially a freak, ya know."  
  
He nodded. "It'll be okay. I've made the basement very orderly. It will pass upwards soon. All of it comes from beneath.. you.." Swallowed, and stared into the sink.  
  
The microwave beeped, and Buffy handed out a mug to Spike.  
  
He looked at it. "Where's yours?"  
  
She picked up the styrofoam cup. "Not done with mine yet."  
  
He nodded, and set about downing the mug quickly, hunger once again taking over as soon as he tasted it.  
  
As soon as he was finished, she warmed up another mug. Handed it to him as well. Dawn could see his eyes flashing and his throat working as he swallowed quickly. He was starving. That much was obvious.  
  
Once he had finished the second mug, he set it on the counter, instead of handing it back. An indication that he was full for the moment.  
  
Her eyes scanned his face worriedly. "Sure?"  
  
He nodded, resting a hand on his stomach. "Feels tight now. Stuffed full."  
  
She smiled at him. "Good."  
  
He nodded and looked around. Blinked a little, unsure what to do now.  
  
Dawn smiled at him, and slipped from the room.  
  
He watched her go, then cocked his head and gave a little grin in Buffy's direction. "Not scary this time."  
  
She smiled at him. "I told you. Wanna clean up now?"  
  
He cocked his head the other way. "Clean?"  
  
"Yeah. Let's get you cleaned up a little."  
  
Unsure what to expect, he followed her.  
  
She went upstairs, grabbing a couple towels and a wash cloth. She walked in the bathroom.  
  
He froze in the doorway, his stomach doing flip/flops.   
  
"Come on, Spike. We gotta clean you up."  
  
He shook his head. "No-no-no-no. Bad room. Bad place. Bad man. Bad William..." Whimpered and took a step back. "Hurt the girl.. I hurt the girl.. I hurt you..."  
  
Crap. "Spike... don't... it's not... "  
  
Shaking his head, he backed so far away that he hit the wall, and slid down into a crouch. "Why-why-why? Hurts.. deserve hurt. Pain. Deserve pain. Cut and burn. Payback. Pay for wrongs. Pay for the pain.. Bad William. Bad.." Tears were begining to show.  
  
She knelt on the floor beside him. "Shhhh... stop. No.... no. Listen- look at me. Spike. Look. At. Me."  
  
He glanced up slowly, the muttering giving way to a quiet, pitiful whimpering sound. And he was shaking. Hard.  
  
She spoke slowly. Enunciating clearly. "No cut and burn. No payback. Not revenge. You don't deserve pain. You can't, if I forgave you, right?"  
  
"Shouldn't forgive... Can't.. breathe.." Still shivering, as if he were freezing.  
  
Her hands moved over his upper arms in soft strokes. "Shhh... I did... Shhh..."  
  
He tried to pull away from her, but only succeeded in bumping his head on the wall. "Don't.. I'll.. It'll burn you. It'll hurt. Bad William hurts the girl...."  
  
Her hands moved to gently touch at his face. "My William doesn't..."  
  
His teary eyes focused on her. The shivering didn't stop, but he was focused. "*Your* William...?"  
  
"My William." Fierce possessiveness. "My Spike."  
  
Without warning, he launched himself at her in a crushing hug. "Yours.. I'll be good... I'll be yours... Let me, please?" Still shaking.  
  
She shhh-ed him, rocking back and forth, her hands patting at his back. "Mine. You'll be good. We'll be good. Of course I will..."  
  
Dawn watched all this from the doorway, unnoticed. So changed. So different. Both of them. Buffy wasn't... running. Wasn't faking... And Spike... so broken. So... different. But still himself, underneath it all. She could see. This was the beginning. This was progress, as the summer had been. She set the tee-shirt and sweats on the floor, and slipped away.  
  
Spike nuzzled his face against Buffy's shoulder, the shaking slowly stopping. Sniffed a little, her scent, her touch reassuring him.  
  
She was still rocking slightly, her hand still gliding up and down his back. Murmured nothing of importance at regular intervals.  
  
Finally, he pulled back slightly, a quiet "..sorry.." slipping out. Embarrassed.  
  
She looked at him. "I'm sorry, too."  
  
Embarrassment turned to confusion. "You're good.. Not sorry."  
  
Shook her head. "I'm sorry."  
  
Sat back against the wall again. "For what?" Looked kind of lost, so he moved closer again.  
  
"For hurting the boy."  
  
Cocked his head. "What boy?"  
  
Tapped her finger to his chest, careful to tap the unwounded side. "This boy."  
  
He looked down at her hand. "You hurt me... But I hurt you worse. I don't want to be bad anymore. Never did.." Tenatively touched her hand.  
  
She let him, holding still so as to not scare him. "Me either. We're both gonna try and be good."  
  
He nodded, his hand going slowly up and down her arm. Just touch. Just a connection.  
  
She gave him a small smile.  
  
He licked his lips, and slowly moved to get up. "Face it. Have to face the mountain to climb it." Moved slowly toward the bathroom door.  
  
She walked with him, stood in the bathroom with him.  
  
He started trembling again. Took a deep breath, having to visably force himself to stay in the room. Squared his shoulders despite the shaking, and sat on the lid of the toilet.  
  
She stood next to him. "Okay?"  
  
Still trembling, he nodded. "I'm climbing."  
  
"Let me know when you're done."  
  
He bit his lip. "I'm alright... Now. Just.." Gave her a look that said 'lost little boy' very clearly. "Don't leave me alone.. Please?"  
  
"I won't." She turned, faced the wall. "Get in the shower, ok? I'm staying right here."  
  
He swallowed, but she heard the sound of water running, and the curtain being pulled across. Then, an 'almost' sigh as the warm water began to have an effect.  
  
She smiled. "I'm gonna get you some clothes, ok? I'm gonna be just outside the door."  
  
"Not far..." Came the semi-shaky reply.  
  
"Not far," she reaffirmed. She had seen the clothes right outside that Dawn had dropped. She retrieved them quickly. Came back in the bathroom. "See? I'm back."  
  
"Oh. Good." Was making quiet noises. Might have been muttering, or singing softly, it wasn't clear.  
  
She sat quietly, oddly patient, waiting for him to finish.  
  
After a few more minutes, the water turned off. "Um.. Towels..?" Embarrassed tone.  
  
She set two towels in front of the tub, returned to her previous position with her back turned. "Towels."  
  
A moment later, he said a quiet, "Okay." Was standing there, one towel wrapped around his waist, carefully drying his upper body with the other one.  
  
She winced at the sight of his healing cuts. She held the clothes out. "Um.... just... sweats."  
  
Nodded, and accepted them, dressing slowly, shirt first. Once he was dressed, he concentrated on trying to dry his hair with one of the towels.  
  
She smiled at the messy locks, and handed him her brush.  
  
He looked at it, then gave a kind of goofy grin, and set about straightening his hair. Looked at her. "Where do I go now?" Absolute trust. Faith.  
  
"To sleep. Come on. Willow's in the guest bed. We'll just... I dunno... We can't put you on the couch. The sun will get you from the picture window. We'll just make you up a pallet in my room, ok?"  
  
He nodded and followed her carefully. "Do you.. Never mind. Oh." Paused, put the brush back on the counter, then followed her.  
  
She started gathering blankets from the hall closet, and her bottom drawer. She made up a bed on the floor next to hers, and used the remaining blankets to cover the windows carefully.  
  
He bent over and started arranging the blankets on the floor into a kind of nest.  
  
She waited until he was finished then shut off the light and slid into bed.  
  
He curled up on his makeshift nest, pulling one of the thicker blankets over himself, glanced up at the bed. She was here. He was hers. Her William. Her Spike. He was safe. They wouldn't get him here. Couldn't get him here. It was reassuring.  
  
She had been thinking, awfully hard, about how to fix him, to bring him back. To heal him. But somewhere along the line, sleep had claimed her. Eventually,she was laying on her stomach, and an arm slid slowly off the bed.  
  
Spike was still mostly awake, and saw the hand come down. He carefully reached up and touched her fingers.  
  
The cool touch stirred her, and she blinked down at him fuzzily.  
  
He was doing what he had been doing before. Gently rubbing his hand up and down her arm. Only now, instead of the shaking from earlier, a soft purr came from the half asleep vampire.  
  
Buffy smiled sleepily, slid her hand up and tangled her fingers in Spike's, holding his hand.  
  
That was a bit of a suprise. A pleasant one. He held her hand gently, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of her hand as his purring increased in volume.  
  
She was still smiling as she drifted off again, her thoughts and dreams easier than they had been in weeks. She hoped Spike's were as well.  
  
His eyes drifted closed, hand holding hers reflexivly. He wouldn't let go until he woke up again. No dreams, for the first time in months, just a thought.. No. A *knowledge*. Hers. Her William. Her Spike. He would be good. He *was* good, now. And, more importantly, he knew it. But there was something even better.  
  
He was hers. 


End file.
